


probability

by ottermo



Series: As Prompted [38]
Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Gen, High School AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/pseuds/ottermo
Summary: High School AU, because I can.People had finally stopped looking at Mattie with Sympathy Eyes, and she was glad of it - she didn’t need to be constantly reminded by their pitying stares. You didn’t just forget that your best friend was in a coma. It was pretty much a constant thing.





	probability

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Week 2, Day 2 of the 2017 Humans 4-week challenge. The prompt was: High School AU 
> 
> This fic refers to (recontextualised) canonical character death!

Even now, weeks afterwards, Mattie still half-expected to see Leo waiting for her outside the English block, at the end of class. They had always met up after third period, ready to sneak off to the gap in the hedge at the bottom of the school field. Max would meet them there, keen to hear how their day was going, and Mattie would try and trick him into doing her maths homework for her. Max didn’t fall for it very often, but it had always made Leo laugh, the fact that she kept trying. 

That was all over now. Leo was in hospital - he would probably never come back to school, even if he got to come home. People had finally stopped looking at Mattie with Sympathy Eyes, and she was glad of it - she didn’t need to be constantly reminded by their pitying stares. You didn’t just forget that your best friend was in a coma. It was pretty much a constant thing. 

Except, at the start of every lunch hour, when she walked out of English and Leo wasn’t standing there, in his usual place. A group of year seven girls used it now, oblivious to the history of that broken second step, with the bit of brick that jutted out at the wrong angle. It was a private landmark, known only to Mattie for now. 

She crossed the basketball court and went down the slope on the other side of it, headed for the field. She and Max had kept up their tradition, as best they could, although for obvious reasons he was having to spend a lot of time with his family at present, so it wasn’t as regular as it had been before. Mattie didn’t mind. It was always nicer to see Max, but on days where he didn’t turn up, she appreciated the time to think. 

Harun waved, as Mattie passed the section of the field that was unofficially reserved by the people who came there to smoke. She nodded to him. Now that Leo wasn’t there, he was the closest thing she had to a friend at school, and she had to hand it to him for trying really hard to be there for her, after Leo’s accident. It wasn’t Harun’s fault Mattie didn’t want to talk about it. 

He jogged over to meet her, even though she hadn’t stopped. “Hey,” he said. “The guys are saying the assembly this afternoon might be about Leo. Like, a fundraiser or something. You know about it?” 

Mattie wrinkled her nose. “What good would a fundraiser do?” 

“I dunno. Raise funds.” 

“Proper bright spark, you are.” 

Harun grinned. His eyes were still serious, though. “Just thought you might know about it. Like if they’d asked you to go up and talk about him or something.” 

She had clearly brought out the sarcasm too early in the conversation. “As if I’d do that.” 

“Why not? No-one else really knows him.” 

Mattie ignored that comment. “What makes you think it’s about Leo, anyway?” 

“Somebody saw his dad leaving the head’s office before school today.” 

This, at least, was an interesting development. “Serious?” 

“Yeah.” 

Mattie shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it’s to do with the assembly. It’s probably just going to be some boring exam revision shit, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

Harun stood there for a few more moments, then when it was clear Mattie wasn’t going to further the conversation, he said goodbye to her and returned to his other friends. Mattie carried on towards the far border of the field, but she barely noticed the steps she was taking. The truth was, it hadn’t even occurred to her that the special assembly that had been announced this morning could have anything to do with Leo. She’d barely given it a second thought. But if it was just an exams thing, wouldn’t they have said? Wouldn’t it have been planned a little more in advance? 

She told herself to stop worrying over nothing. It was a big school. Other things happened in it than one year nine going into hospital. Other things happened in it that were everybody’s business. 

There was no sign of Max at the hedge gap. Mattie dumped her school bag on the grass and sat down next to it, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back on the palms of her hands. She could hear the sounds of a football game starting up, and over in the smokers’ corner, someone was playing music from a Bluetooth speaker. Looking uphill, she could see one of the school’s synth janitors, with a troupe of student counsellors in tow, the ones who gave up one lunchtime a week to pick up litter in the school grounds. Funny, Mattie thought, that there were people like that in the world, and there were also people like Darren Andrews, who’d asked Mattie last week how anyone was supposed to know Leo was in a coma, when he never spoke or reacted to anything in the first place. 

Mattie may have shoved him against the wall of lockers. That was immaterial. Darren Andrews was an idiot. 

It was true that growing up with a bunch of synths had made Leo quite a still, contained sort of person, just out of habit. Being around synths either made you mega fidgety, to make up for it, or it got you slowing right down with them. It was also true that Leo hadn’t spoken much to anyone besides Mattie, but when your family was made of technology too advanced to officially exist, and their very lives would be at stake if anyone reported them, you didn’t exactly go around inviting people over to play FIFA. If Leo was perceived as weird, it was mostly circumstantial. It just so happened that the circumstances were unknown to everyone except Mattie. 

The lunch hour passed irritatingly slowly, so much so that Mattie almost thought about going over and joining Harun and his lot after all. She checked her phone a few times, just to have something to do, but there were no messages, and no new threads on Headcrack that caught her eye. Mostly, she just sat and enjoyed being cut off from it all. 

__

* * *

 

   
“We understand that some of you may be upset by this news. That’s perfectly natural. Mrs Lacey, our school guidance counsellor, will be available for the rest of the afternoon, for anyone who wants to talk to her privately.” 

The words washed over Mattie in a wave of meaningless sound. None of it was reaching past her ears anymore. It was like her brain had shut off, closed up the windows, barricaded the door. Nothing was getting in or out. Vaguely, she was aware that the people sitting nearest her were all looking in her direction, but she was staring straight ahead, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Her hands were in her lap, balled up in tight fists, and the sensation of nails against skin was the only part of the physical world she was properly connecting to. 

The rest of it couldn’t be true, it just wasn’t. Leo was in hospital. He had been in hospital for weeks. Those were the facts, and nothing had changed about his condition, not since the day of the accident. He was sleeping. He would sleep and sleep and sleep until he woke up. The machines would stay on. That was key, that the machines stayed on. Nobody was going to turn them off. Nobody had the right to turn them off, and certainly the headteacher of Mattie’s school did not have the right to stand up in front of everyone and say otherwise.

He was asleep. He was supposed to stay asleep. 

The words continued. Mrs Lacey was talking now. There were people sniffling in the audience. Stupid. They didn’t know anything. They didn’t know Leo was still asleep and they hadn’t really known him while he was awake so it was stupid if they cried now. Mattie’s cheeks were dry, she was going to see Leo again even if he didn’t open his eyes to see her, the machine was staying on. The headteacher had been wrong, misinformed somehow. Leo’s father had not really been to visit her this morning. Harun’s friend must have imagined it. The machines weren’t allowed to turn off when they were the ones doing the breathing. You didn’t just _stop someone breathing_. 

The headteacher was talking again. Then there was music, and lots of shuffling about - people were leaving. Mattie stood up when it came to her row’s turn. Her movements were smooth and automatic. Like a synth. Like Max. Max hadn’t been at the hedge today, which meant he had probably been at the hospital. He would have stopped them switching off the machines. He must have. He wouldn’t have let them stop breathing for him. 

Somebody spoke in Mattie’s ear. Harun. She looked in his direction, but she hadn’t heard him in words, just a string of noises that didn’t mean anything. His hand was on her arm. She looked at it. It seemed far away, though she wasn’t aware of her arm having grown. The sounds of people collecting their things were making strange echoes off the walls of the hall, and something in Mattie’s brain had decided to tune into those, rather than anything else. The crowd was moving towards the exit. She allowed herself to be borne along. 

It was fifth period. Physics, she was supposed to have Physics. It was back that way. She needed to turn round, but the people in front of her were going this way, and Mattie’s feet were just following. There was a door at the end of this corridor. She could go out of it and double back on herself, walking back to where she should have made the turn. 

She went out of the door. She didn’t turn; she kept walking straight, down the ramp and towards the basketball court. Before the assembly she had been on the field. Everything was alright on the field. 

Mattie realised she was running, but only when she was already out of breath. She slowed down, having no idea how long she had sprinted for, only that she was almost at the gap in the hedge. Max wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t been there at lunch and he wouldn’t be there now. He would be at the hospital, making sure nothing was changing. Max wouldn’t let Leo down, he never had. Mattie didn’t need him to be at the gap if it meant he was at the hospital instead. 

“Mattie?” 

Max’s voice. No, he wasn’t there, he hadn’t been before. Mattie turned away from the gap and took a deep breath. Where had all the air gone? She was outside. It was allowed to be stuffy in the hall but out here she was supposed to be able to breathe properly. Maybe she needed a machine too. 

“Mattie, it’s me. Behind you.” 

She turned around. Max was there, now, standing in the gap, behind the border where the hedge should be but still fully visible for anyone to see. Instinctively Mattie pushed through to join him on the other side, and they moved out of sight. 

“Max,” she said, struggling even to form that one word. Her mouth was foreign soil, unchartered territory that her tongue didn’t know how to plough anymore. “I can’t…” 

“I tried to get here earlier,” Max said. “But there was a lot to organise. Mia needed my help.” 

The sound of his voice, so measured and calm and familiar, grounded Mattie for the first time since the news. The full force of the last half an hour hit her all at once, slamming into her so hard that she almost choked. “Leo’s _dead_?” she croaked out. 

Max moved forwards, and took hold of Mattie’s arms. “Not entirely. Listen to me, Mattie, we haven’t lost him yet, but we still might.” 

She blinked. Her heart had given a leap but now it lodged in her throat, throbbing there, confusion flooding her.

“But– they said–” 

“He’s been discharged from the hospital,” Max said. “They couldn’t do anything else for him. Officially, he’s died. But our father is going to continue working on him at home. He’s studied the human brain extensively, to help with creating us, and there are things he can try that the doctors won’t.” 

“Like what?” Mattie asked, her eyes saucer-wide and threatening to spill. 

“I don’t know, he won’t say. No-one is allowed to know, Mattie. He isn’t a licensed medical doctor, and he would be punished for falsifying a death certificate.” 

“I won’t say anything,” Mattie assured him, finally able to breathe properly. Her heart was still beating fast, but with uncertainty now, and that was a thousand times better than despair. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before the announcement. I didn’t even know Father had been to tell the school what was going to happen, not until we already had Leo home. By then it was too late to reach you.” 

“Why did he have to tell the school?” Mattie asked, dazed still. 

“I suspect he wants to cover all bases straight away. As far as the whole world knows, this is the day Leo died. Whoever you ask, they’ll say the same. Even if doubt is cast upon the documentation, there’ll still be a lot of people who remember it the same way.” 

“But… there’s a chance he could live?” 

“Yes.” 

“How big a chance?” 

Max looked uneasy. “I haven’t dared to ask. I don’t think it’s very big at all.” 

Mattie nodded. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the odds in any more detail, really. Any chance, however tiny, was something to hold on to, at least. “Probability,” she said, a tiny note of bitter humour edging her voice. “I never did see the point of it anyway.” 

Max’s lips twitched in the faintest glimmer of his usual beaming smile. “I remember.” 

“Can I see him, d'you think?” 

“Not today. Probably not for a long time. My father will be with him as much as possible, and he mustn’t find out that you know.” 

It made sense. A tiny, shameful part of Mattie was glad she wouldn’t be allowed. Images flickered in her mind, the sight of Leo stretched out on a table with wires running in and out of him, little lights bleeping and reflecting on his pale, lifeless skin; even in her imagination, he looked too close to being dead. Properly, irrevocably dead, like people in the churchyard where it was set in stone, just like the phrase said, un-undoable. 

“But you’ll keep me updated?” 

“Of course I will.” 

Impulsively Mattie closed the gap between them, throwing her arms around Max. He hugged her back, and a relieved sob forced its way out of her. She had been to so many emotional extremes in such a short time. Her head was still spinning. 

When they parted, Max was smiling his proper smile. “Today is a good day, Mattie. We have to keep hoping.” 

“I will,” she promised. 

The chance didn’t have to be big, it just had to be within her reach.


End file.
